If You Should Ask: Between The Lines and The Years
by Reprahsm
Summary: A rendition of the lost years, detailing the lives of the four Marauders with special attention to the relationship between Sirius and Remus.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1, "Swallowed Whole"**

The train ride had been relatively uneventful, having chosen a compartment early on and making sure to place a locking charm on the door, because really what else was he to do? Being who he was he had very little contact with people his age, or really, people at all. Awkward social interactions were something that he hoped to avoid at all costs, or at least until absolutely necessary. Anxiety was a scary thing when you were an eleven year old, and being an eleven year old werewolf gave anxiety countless opportunities to rear its ugly head, giving you no time to brace for the impact of it all. He really was no good at bracing, he realized as the sorting hat was placed on his head, the fear of it swallowing him ever present on the boy's mind. No, he thought, no one had prepared him for hundreds of eyes staring at him with scrutiny as if he were a bug under a microscope. Swallowing hard, he forced himself to collect his racing thoughts and stop the slight tremors that were coursing through his body. He took a deep breath and told himself that as far as anyone knew he was normal, and really, he was sure, most people had better things to do than to stare at him. It was all in his head.

"Ohhh," a voice whispered in his head, instantly causing Remus to start. "This is interesting," the hat murmured.

"What... what is?" he answered in the quietest of voices.

The hat was silent for a moment, almost as if it were deciding how to respond when he knew perfectly well what the hat had meant. Gripping the base of the chair tightly, he dug his fingernails into the wood. He wished nothing more that the hat would get on with it. Surely someone had noticed the considerable amount of time it was taking to sort him.

"Impatient little thing aren't you, young Lupin? Yes yes, the sorting. Terribly sorry my boy, but I've never seen one of you in all my years of service to Hogwarts!" Remus visibly flinched, "Now for where you'll be placed... Ravenclaw seems to be a fitting place for you, but I think you may need more than what the house can offer, and while Slytherin is the obvious choice... no I think not. I think,"

"GRYFFINDOR!" bellowed out the hat. Remus, having thought he misheard remained on the chair for several moments than was acceptable and only when he became aware that people were staring did he move from the chair and make his way towards the long table, applause all around him. And it was overwhelming and he thought perhaps the ground could take him there and then.

He was aware how much of a coward he must have looked, eyes downcast staring at the empty plate below. Instantly, as if a light had turned on his shoulders squared and he schooled his face into a passive mask, the one he had learned to use around strangers to keep their eyes off of him for any longer than was absolutely necessary. He had learned the best way to avoid unwanted attention was to not draw attention to warrant it.

Most of the people by then had lost interest in the newest member of Gryffindor, instead going back to the sorting feast, half listening to the names being called. He had felt a pair of eyes burning holes into the side of his head since he sat down. Carefully he turned his head meeting the gaze of the cold grey eyes. Oh Merlin, he thought, but he was so close. Had this boy no sense for personal boundaries? He carefully shifted away from the other boy, finding it odd that neither had bothered to engage in conversation, just staring at each other, both like deer caught in headlights. He never met anyone who had ever looked quite like the other boy did. He looked far too serious to be eleven years old, far too exposed. This, he thought, was not an eleven year old boy.

"Sirius!" a voice screeched right into his ear causing him to flinch away, the exchange between the two boys lost.

The owner of the grey eyes broke out into a smile. And that too was weird.

"James! I hadn't even noticed you had been called," the boy, Sirius, replied with the grin now plastered on his face. He wanted to rip it off.

"Yeah, you soggy foot. What happened to, 'James we've to stick together, James how am I to prove that there is a frozen alien base underneath the sheets of ice in Antarctica if my sidekick is taken from me from that wiling meddling hat and is placed elsewhere where we will only grow further and further apart, our epic quest for extraterrestrial life forms forgotten for eternity?'"

"Oh, Jimmy. You're right... a man needs allies with quest going, and of course I'll need your thick skull to plunder through all that Arctic ice," the grey eyed boy said nonchalantly.

"Yes, I see. I do all the groundwork but quite clearly I'M the sidekick." James, Jimmy? rolled his eyes before quickly turning to Remus, "Hello! My name is James Potter and I see that you've already met Sirius, the great git that he is," said James, holding out his hand. Presumably for him to shake. Nutters. They were all nutters. Nevertheless, he tentatively offered his hand, just then noticing a flash of red across the table.

"Well you're a bit... odd," offered the girl and the source of the red flash. _Hair,_ his mind supplied. He froze, momentarily thinking the girl was referring to him until he noticed her gaze landing on James.

"Did you hear that Sirius? No, I didn't hear anything at all," James said loudly, causing him to smile despite the red haired girls reddening cheeks.

Sirius, having already heaped his plate full of food briefly looked at the girl and shrugged making a noise that he could not decipher through the mouth full of mashed potatoes. He thought that maybe it had ended with the word _blood_. James gave him a scowl and opened his mouth to say something when the boy sitting to his right tugged on his sleeve.

"James, you know it's t-" Sirius was cut off.

"Can I have the gravy, please?" said the boy frantically tugging on James' sleeve.

Sirius paused in eating, fork midway to his mouth staring at the stout boy. He scowled, angling his fork and giving off a haughty stance as his shepherd's pie landed on the hand of the second year sitting beside him.

The eyes of the round boy's face got impossibly wide, his lips trembling before stammering, "I'm P-peter... Peter Pettigrew," and then immediately cast his eyes downward.

"S'okay, mate," reassured James, patting Peter's shoulder, "Shan't come between a boy and his gravy. Shan't do it when that boy is Sirius Black. Bad temper that one has, runs in the family, it does."

Sirius blanched, letting out a breath of cool air that tickled the side of his neck, "M'sorry, Peter," he mumbled, sliding the gravy down the table.

He found himself staring at the grey eyed boy again, the exchange between he and Peter seeming so odd. Sirius returned the gaze, smiling softly at him, yet still not speaking a word. There was something in that smile. Something undeniably warm that managed to reach the other boy's cold eyes.

"Hey," said James, jabbing him in the side with a fork, causing his to quickly whip his head around in the opposite direction, "you never told us your name."

There was a brief pause in which nothing was said and then James, "Your name...?" he repeated

And he would have answered more promptly, he was sure, had there not been a hand on his leg.

* * *

"Oh. Hm." was the grey eyed boy's response when entering Gryffindor 1st year dorms. Despite how nice the room looked, he half expected the other boy to turn his nose up and make some ostentatious remark, an occurrence he was quickly becoming accustomed to when around the other boy.

The abrupt stop in motion caused both James and Peter to collide into each other with James crashing into Sirius. Sirius blinked, coming out of his daze. He gazed back at Remus. He was currently standing just outside the room holding the door open with a hand. He met the other boy's gaze, dimly aware that he had made a step in his direction. Before he could register what was happening, Sirius grabbed his hand and all but threw him on the bed closest to the wall on the right hand side of the room. He sighed, rearranging himself on the bed and staring at the closed door.

"Alright, mates. I've decided which bed is whose," Sirius claimed, throwing himself on the bed directly besides his and then motioned James towards his assigned bed.

Raising an eyebrow, James looked at Sirius, "Okay, and why?"

"Well, James. Being who I am, a man and all I have to protect those who are weaker than me, so naturally it'd make sense for me to take the bed nearest to the door in case something should happen that would require my immediate care," he said with a straight face.

"...Sirius, I'm up against a wall," huffed James, making an effort not to stare at Peter, who was sitting on the bed directly across from Sirius' and actually closest to the door.

"All comments stand, James. You have knobby knees."

"My knees are not knobby!"

"James! I know how you must feel, but take into consideration how dismayed I am that James Potter, my partner in life, is unfit to slay dragons and trolls and other various creatures of the night with me because he has the physique of a girl."

He watched transfixed as all the bedding on James' bed flew through the air, smothering Sirius in linens. His voice could still faintly be heard declaring his sorrows. He found himself laughing, no longer worried that the other boy thought of him as weak.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2, "The Wolf and The Boy"**

"Remus..." muttered Sirius, shooting him a sideways glance.

It was only the second week of class when Professor Mukworm, their potions professor, had broken and he could understand why. Sirius and James had made an effort out of harassing the Slyterhins, causing their cauldrons to explode in their faces and making their nails melt off their fingers. They had also taken it upon themselves to change every Slytherin's hair in the room a bright Gryffindor red, including Mukworm. They had titled him an honorary Slytherin for living in the dungeons and taking up with the snakes. The antics of the two boys did not change, no matter the amount or severity of the detentions that Mukworm dished out. The result of the, 'Breaking of the worm' as James liked to call it, was assigned seating.

He casually stole a glance at Sirius. It was the first time the boy had addressed him in the two weeks since arriving at Hogwarts. Usually if Sirius wanted him to know something it came in the form of a command or was spoken directly to James. It should have bothered him more than it did, but the fact alone that Sirius paid him more attention than the other two boys made up for quite a bit. Sirius always made sure he knew where he was at all times. Sirius was also very touchy with him, more so than with James even, unless one was to count the constant wrestling the two indulged in.

"Hm?" he replied.

"This... it's rather dull," responded Sirius, rubbing at his eyes. He didn't even bother to pretend to be paying attention to Professor Mukworm. His hands were gripping the side of the table fiercely, feet planted far apart and flat on the ground. The position looked a little awkward and flighty in his opinion.

Bowing his head, he gave a small smile. He did suppose that the seating arrangements were not to Sirius' liking. Mukworm, not being stupid nor considerably brave decided to assign Gryffindors amongst Gryffindors, leaving the Slytherins to sit as they pleased. Despite only having 6 first year Gryffindors, Mukworm had managed to separate them to ensure the most displeasure for both Sirius and James. James was placed in the first row next to a mousy, but otherwise unremarkable girl, named Alice Whitfield. Peter and Lily were placed in the second row. Remus suspected that particular arrangement was more for the benefit of Peter's grade than anything. It was no secret to anyone in Gryffindor house that Lily Evans was extremely studious. That left him and Sirius in the last row of seating. He really did have to give it to Mukworm for correctly assessing that Remus Lupin was no threat in the mischief making department despite always accompanying James and Sirius. Next to him Sirius gave an audible sigh, staring up at the ceiling as Mukworm's voice droned on about the proper way to cut the caterpillar into segments. At the front of the class, James wasn't doing much better. He was making an effort out of trying to wedge his foot under the heavy table for no other reason other than anxiety and a lack of an outlet for his energy.

He glanced down as a slip of parchment was nudged underneath his arched hand. In Sirius elegant scrawl, 'Are you sick?'

Biting his lip he paused for a moment to control his body from shaking at the question. The full moon had been two nights ago and usually it took a week for him to feel human again. Being that it had only been two days he knew that he looked as if he belonged six feet under, and felt as if every bone in his body were slightly too big for his frame. If it weren't for magic he would still be a bruised and bleeding mess with several broken bones. He was grateful to Madam Pomfrey, but there were certain things healing could not fix after the full moon. The extraordinary amount of fatigue was one of them, but he would not allow more than one day of recovering from the full moon. He would not let himself fall behind in his studies.

'No,' he wrote, 'Just extremely tired. When I visited my Mum at home there was a lot to do around the house, like I told you, and I didn't get much sleep,' he wrote, passing the paper back to Sirius, who upon reading it lifted one polished eyebrow.

The other boy's reaction made him nervous beyond measure. It was only the first full moon since his arrival at Hogwarts and he wondered how long he could make up lies to cover up his absence during the few days he was gone each month. This month he opted to include his mother, saying that she was ill and required his care for a couple of days. He hoped that this could get him through the first couple of months, or perhaps longer. He also knew that if he kept coming back like this-and he would- that there would be suspicions about his home life.

'Don't you have two parents? Or at least a house elf?' the paper collided back against his hand.

'Dad works long hours and, no, we do not have a house elf.'

'Really? We have a dozen. They sleep in the basement and then when they die Mother mounts their heads to the walls.'

He burst out laughing, exchanging a look with Sirius before quickly clasping his hands over his mouth. He stared up at the front of the class to where Mukworm was lecturing. Luckily for him Mukworm had not noticed; the professor was looking at his notes and scratching his head, deep in his own thoughts. He looked back at Sirius with a red face, embarrassed at his sudden outburst. Sirius gave him a strange look and grabbed the parchment back from him, frantically writing, 'Why did you laugh? I didn't think that was funny.'

He grabbed his quill and then paused looking at Sirius who met his gaze, nothing but confusion clouding his eyes.

'Surely you weren't serious? That's awful'

'They're just creatures, Remus,' was the haughty reply.

Swallowing he clenched the parchment in his palm, anger and sadness shrouding his mind. Of course they were just creatures, he thought. Nobody could care for a lowly bottom dwelling creature like a house elf, and clearly no one could care for a dark creature, like a werewolf. In fact, house elves were lucky in his opinion. They had a place amongst wizards and their primary purpose was to serve, and while not very honorable at least they could breathe the same air without being classified as a disgusting danger. He could taste bile in his throat as the same thoughts that coursed through his head on the days before going to Hogwarts came back. He was living on borrowed time. His education was out of pure pity. Ignoring Sirius concerned looks, he returned his gaze back to Mukworm, focusing entirely on his nasally voice.

* * *

He was being jabbed in the side by a very demanding fork come dinner time. James really needed to understand what forks were for.

"What's wrong, mate?" Asked James, fork still lodged into his side, "You haven't touched a thing, and there's Yorkshire pudding!"

Truth be told he had touched things, but as far as eating went, he still hadn't gotten to that point.

"I'm just tired, James. Thinking about my Mum and everything, you know," he said, barely a whisper.

The fork immediately left his side and James turned his full attention on him, "She'll be alright though, Remus?" because the thought of anything else couldn't quite register in eleven year old minds.

"Oh, I don't know yes," he murmured, mind elsewhere.

Ever since his discussion with Sirius in the potions classroom, he had been thrown into a state of premature mourning, made even more devastating by the fact the people he was mourning were still very much alive. It had been foolish of him to think that he could have friends, or lead anything remotely like a normal life. He need only to look at the scars that ran diagonally down his chest to be reminded of that. Or in this case, an inadvertent hurtful remark from Sirius. James, having been satisfied with his response went back to his pudding. Sirius was sitting to his right and seemed to be trying very hard not to turn his head towards him at all. He thought it was odd that Sirius had chosen to sit next to him if he wanted to avoid him that badly, but then again, Sirius always demanded that he sit by him. The need to be in close proximity to him was something that he never quite understood about Sirius.

"You know, Remus," that was Peter, "My Aunt Polly was sick for almost three weeks from dragon pox. No one could tell what it was on account of there not actually being any pox. She would have known sooner, but she thinks she can cure anything just by wanting it enough. She's a nut. Is that how your Ma is, do you think?" asked Peter innocently.

He rubbed at his eyes and stared at Peter from across the table, "No, Peter, my Mum isn't a nut."

"Oh! I didn't mean that she was a nut, I just thought maybe she didn't get herself checked out."

"She did."

"Then what's she got? I can't imagine that it's not curable," asked Peter.

"I don't know, Peter. The-they don't really tell me these things," he replied, suddenly nervous.

"Well they need to tell you, she's your mum and it may b-"

"Peter, shut the hell up," Sirius was on his feet leaning across the table, his eyes blazing into Peter's.

Peter immediately cast his eyes down and gave a quiet apology in his direction before going back to his food, pecking over what was left. As much as he was grateful for Sirius' intervening he couldn't help but to feel bad for Peter. It was one of the first times Peter had spoken up in the group and until then it seemed as if he had gained some confidence amongst the other three boys. He liked Peter and knew that Peter was just being concerned, if not a little callous. It was a shame that he had made such great friends knowing that he couldn't keep them.

The rest of dinner was uncharacteristically slow at Gryffindor table, at least the end that housed the younger years, the older students beyond their reach in more ways than one.

* * *

It was early morning when he felt a cool breeze hit his side as his bed curtains were pushed open. Blinking in surprise,he stared up at Sirius. His hair was disheveled looking as if he had tossed and turned for most of the night. They continued to stare at each other in silence before a loud snore from Peter's bed roared through the air, causing Sirius to shift his weight from the opposite foot.

"Remus, are you mad at me?" he asked.

"No I-" he was cut off.

"It's just that you keep saying you're tired or that it's about your Mum, but you didn't get all quiet and moody until the house elf thing and you wouldn't talk or respond to any of my notes all day and I just, well what did I do?" stammered Sirius.

He chewed on his lip, not sure on what to say. When put like that, it was obvious that his mood had nothing to do with his mother's illness or lack thereof. Several minutes passed without his acknowledgement, causing Sirius to throw his hands up in the air and hastily pull back his covers, climbing into bed with him. Startled, he moved further back, distancing himself from the other boy. This caused Sirius to become even more anxious, desperately following him back until he was dangerously close to falling off the bed. Strong arms wrapped around him and Sirius' head was pushed into his chest.

"Please don't hate me. I can't take it. I'll be nice to the house elves, although they are sort of disgusting," spoke Sirius into his chest.

"They aren't disgusting, Sirius. We can't help what we are. S'what Mother says at least." He was aware at how stiff his body was with Sirius wrapping himself around it, but still he couldn't force himself to push the other boy away.

Sirius gave an abrupt laugh, "My mother says things your Mum probably wouldn't agree on then."

"Sure she would, Sirius. Mothers are about all the same," he said, trying to convince himself. After all, there were elves mounted to the walls.

"Yeah," Sirius replied vaguely.

There was silence and then, "Sirius?"

"Yes?" Sirius breathed.

"Why's it so important that I don't hate you? We hardly talk you know, and it's only been a couple of weeks."

"Because you're _Remus,_" Sirius replied adamantly.

"You don't know what that is, Sirius."

Sirius lifted his head up from his chest and glared up at him, "I do so!"

"You don't, Sirius, and if you did you probably wouldn't want to be my friend."

"Of course I want to be your friend, Remus, and there's nothing wrong with you. You were made for me," Sirius responded, clutching Remus tighter.

After that, silence surrounded the two boys as Sirius' breathing became deeper and more relaxed. The boy's grip on his waist slackened slightly. He remained awake staring wide eyed at the other boy, trying to comprehend what Sirius could possibly have meant. Whatever the meaning, he knew that there was no distancing himself from Sirius now, and as hard as it would be to be friends with him knowing it couldn't last, he couldn't bring himself to break the fragile friendship build between he and Sirius. Closing his eyes, he brought his hand up to smooth Sirius' hair down his back, allowing himself to be lulled back to sleep as puffs of air were blown over his neck.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Summary: Sirius is becoming increasingly suspicious about Remus' continued monthly absences and is certain that Remus is keeping secrets from his mates.

Author Note: Thank you everyone for reviewing - made me a very very happy thing that I am. Made me go like this: =D even. Not really. I don't do that so much. Anyways, thank you for the encouragement.

**Chapter 3, "Hiding From Me"**

Sirius hastily waved a half-hearted goodbye to his Mother, who was currently standing on the platform of 9 and 3/4 , head held high and a permanent scowl plastered on her face. His grip on Regulus tightened, zigzagging through the crowd of people, knocking into a few and hoping that his brother could keep up.

"Sirius, oh but could you listen!" said Regulus, exasperated.

"It doesn't matter which house you get sorted in," he told his brother for the fifth time.

"But Mum said I wasn't to turn out like you, Siri." He winched, hating the nickname.

He halted in his movement, giving an abrupt lurch. The animosity between his mother and him was nothing new, but somehow whenever it was alluded to, it always managed to rip open the wound. He had always been the more rebellious out of him and Regulus growing up and while his mother did scold him for his brashness, it was always with an air of fondness. The fondness was considerably lacking ever since coming to Hogwarts. Closing his eyes and leaning towards a pillar he forced down the feelings of shame and disappointment he now associated with his Mother. It wouldn't do good to fall apart surrounded by hundreds of people on a train station. Though he may be not be a Slytherin he still had a level of pride to uphold. After all, he was a Black and he was sure that was still important. There was a tug at the sleeve of his robe and he looked down to see Regulus staring up at him with wide eyes. He smiled, flinging his head back slightly and straightening his posture. His brother must think of him as such a girl.

"Do you think I'm so bad, Reggie?" his own nickname for his brother easily slipping off his tongue.

"No... Of course not, Sirius," whispered his brother.

He threw his brother a quick smile, not willing to extend the conversation any further. He grabbed Regulus' hand dragging him along before coming to a stop at the train station, eyes quickly searching out a familiar face. It had been two _weeks_. His brother huddled close to his side, shivering despite it not being cold.

"Sirius," he said, teeth chattering, "can we please get o-"

"Sirius!" roared a voice from behind before he found himself sprawled on the floor, vision obscured by a mop of black hair.

"Jim! Old Pal. I understand two weeks without Sirius is a hardship, but you're not exactly light and you're scaring Regulus," he laughed clutching James to him.

"Oh Regulus loves me innit that right, you little lion, you?" James paused, releasing him and peering up at his brother.

"Stop that, Potter. You're only a year older than me and I most certainly do not love you. And I'm not a lion!" replied Regulus, adopting the haughty attitude that all Blacks favored when made to look inferior.

"Matters not what you say. I knew you when you were just a cub suckling on your mother's teat."

"James, that's disgusting," he coughed.

"Ehm yeah, that is sort of unsettling."

Regulus' lip curled into a sneer. "You weren't old enough to remember any of my infancy," he replied, nose in the air.

"Sirius, how is it that you managed to bypass most of this horrible Black attitude?" grumbled James, obviously not liking being corrected.

"Oh believe me, Jimmie, it takes effort. When provoked we all turn into sniveling little girls."

"I thought as much," said James gravely, then stopped mid expression, "What do the girls turn into?"

"Harpies, Jamie."

James paused, the image peculiar, "You aren't even kidding, are you mate?"

He gave an impish grin, scratching the back of his head, "Oh you know, probably not"

He smiled seeing Regulus roll his eyes, open disdain for the other two boys. He wasn't too worried knowing that it was all a carefully honed act that had been engraved into all Black children by age four, however; on Regulus it was just a poor imitation that lacked the malice needed to deliver the message. Truth be told, Regulus was actually a very caring individual who thought the world of his family and would never dream of letting them down. It was something that worried him. What with Mother being a manipulative cow and all. Blinking, he became aware of just how close James' face was to his.

"Purebloods, all dark and broody," James observed James, jabbing at his cheek.

"James, you are a pureblood," he reminded.

"Pft only by chance."

"And what a marvelous thing it is! It was by chance that you and I were to become brothers! If not for your pureblood lineage Mother would not be able to tolerate you, which is questioned even now," he said gleefully.

He brushed off James' shoulder in a show of friendship or probably just because he wanted to or maybe because James was a specky git with kneazle hair all over him. Could be either, really. He knew that it was a testament to his commitment to James that he was willing to stand and touch a boy like him, kneazle hair and all. He wasn't at all sure when James came into contact with said Kneazle, having never seen one anywhere around the other boy.

"You're a lucky lad, James."

James eyed him in confusion, waiting for an explanation. When none was forthcoming he shrugged, "Come on, let's get a cab before they're all taken," James said, taking hold of his shoulder and steering him towards the train, Regulus awkwardly running to keep up.

* * *

"Remus, are you dying?" he blurted mid sorting feast. Forks paused and pumpkin juice left forgotten, the inhabitants of Gryffindor table stared at Remus expectantly.

"No." Remus sighed. He thought he looked like he wanted nothing more than to bury his head in his hands.

He frowned, taking Remus in once more, making sure he was not mistaken. There were dark circles around his eyes and his skin looked particularly yellow. His hair hung in lank clumps around his face and his whole body seemed to want to crumble into itself. In essence, he looked extremely _dead_. He glanced around at his fellow housemates, curious as to what their reactions were. Most everyone had began eating again, not caring in the first place. The only time any of the other members of Gryffindor noticed Remus at all was when he was standing next to either he or James. Remus was much too quiet and bookish to warrant much attention. Peter also went back to his dinner, overlooking his friend in favor of the feast before him. He stopped a moment to stare at Peter distracted by the sheer number of foods Peter was managing to shovel into his mouth wondering how on earth he managed to eat so much and not be the size of a small country. It was quite impressive when he stopped to notice. Looking away in disgust he noticed James staring at Remus, frown fixed to his face and caught his eye. Unfortunately it was something that didn't escape Remus' attention and he could have sworn he heard a low growl emitting from the other boy. James, sensing Remus' discomfort quickly went back to eating his food. He really didn't give a toss about Remus' discomfort, and gave the boy's shin a hard kick underneath the table.

Not even bothering to wince Remus turned to stare, eyes dull. It seemed the other boy didn't have the energy to care nor did he want to placate him with any sort of verbal response.

"What happened to you?" he demanded, voice a whisper.

Averting his gaze, "Your brother just got sorted into Slytherin..." Remus trailed off, exhaling deeply.

"Of course he did! Generations of them," he flailed, hands in the air, "What happened?" he repeated.

"I'm just sick, Sirius. It happens. I'm not sure why you think something has happened."

Remus had a death grip on his fork, his fingers turning white and the vein in his neck popping alarmingly. It was odd to see Remus this worked up over his honest concern. Remus must have a pretty rotten mother for her to not realize how ill her own son was, but then again, maybe she did know and was too caught up in her own selfish monthly Remus steeling sickness to care. Whatever it was he knew something was being hidden from him. He wished that Remus would understood that they didn't keep things from each other. He probably would have to remind him again sometime soon.

"Look is this what your mother has? This," he gestured at Remus.

"It's not contagious. It was just a bad month is all," Remus said, then paused, his fork falling limp in his hand, his eyes wide and staring straight ahead.

"A bad month? You're saying this is stress?" he said, watching Remus rake his hand shakily through his hair.

"These things only last a week tops, Black," a wild head of red said, not even bothering to look at him. He hated Evans. She smelled. Not that he ever got close enough to actually smell her. It was like the grease in Snape's hair. It was there; it was everywhere.

"A week..." he murmured, not quite sure that he heard right.

He had never known of any illness that when properly diagnosed couldn't be fixed with some sort of antidote. It bothered him that Evans had knowledge of Remus' mysterious illness. It also annoyed him that all of Remus' attention was off of him. Instead Evans and Remus were discussing the summer's homework. Who did summer homework, anyways? Remus and Evans had become alarmingly close during the summer, writing letters back and forth. Apparently towards the end of last year they had been partnered in Muggle Studies and became fast friends. It infuriated him, to say the least. Evans didn't need to study muggles when she spent eleven years doing just that. Stupid Evans. Stupid Evans with Her stupid red mop of stupid hair. Fortunately for him James was not on team Evans either, but for different reasons. In that regard, he did feel sorry for the girl. After all, she wasn't a greasy git just because she associated with one. Just a smelly one.

"She's stolen Remus," he glared in James' general direction.

James paused in eating his mashed potatoes and squinted down the table at Remus and Lily, their discussion still going. Remus seemed to be growing even more tired going as far as using his elbow to prop himself up.

"Don't suppose he'll start hanging out with Snape, do you?" James asked, eyes the size of slits.

"Snape? No, he hates Remus. He's a bit jealous, you know."

James turned to stare at him, "I hate Snape," eyes now wide and unfocussed.

"Oh everyone hates Snape, Jamie. Look at him."

Taking the commandment by heart, much to his delight James turned, squinting (because James was _always_ squinting) across the hall to the Slytherin table, eyes on Snape instantly. He always managed to spot Snape right away amongst the 'snakes', as they liked to call them. Snape was sitting at the end of the table completely alone save for a book perched in front of him, his long nose almost touching the pages. Other than being sort of ugly, he looked otherwise harmless.

"I hate him best."

"Good job, James."

"Sirius, shut up."

* * *

It was several months later when he found himself in the common room waiting for Remus to return from being gone another three days. He figured someone should be present when Remus came back to help the other boy into his bed. He wasn't quite sure what made Remus so weak on returning from his monthly visits home, but he always was. Whenever Remus would stumble into the dorms he never failed in knocking over half of what occupied the room. He didn't see the point in waiting for that when it always woke him up anyways. He was so preoccupied in his thoughts that he almost didn't hear the door creak open.

"Remus, You're back! Oh here, let me help," he said, swinging an arm around Remus, whose first reaction was to flinch. Ignoring it, he guided Remus to sit on the couch.

"Sirius don't ask," Remus pleaded leaning heavily against him.

He stared down at Remus ready to protest when he saw the earnest look Remus was giving him. Sighing he gave in and patted Remus' hair down slightly. It did little good to tame the uncombed strands and he sighed. There was a moment of silence and he thought that perhaps Remus had fallen asleep nestled against his side. Seeing nothing wrong with spending the night on the common room couch he closed his eyes, trying to do the same.

"Sirius?" Remus murmured.

Opening one eye, "Yeah?"

"Thanks."

"Don't be stupid, Remus."

"M'not stupid."

"You do stupid things."

"Like what?"

"Well you lie to your mates, and I don't approve of your relationship with Evans."

Sighing Remus sat up, looking directly at him, "Why don't you like Lily, Sirius?" he asked, ignoring the lying bit. Remus was infuriating.

"She's stolen you, hasn't she? You're my best friend, not hers," he replied.

"That's James."

"Nope. James is my brother in all but blood, Remy. You're my best mate."

Remus frowned, looking down at his hands then back up at him, 'Remy?' he mouthed.

"Yep. I just made it up. Best mates do that, you know. Give each other nicknames. Bet that Evans hasn't done that, has she?"

"She's a good person, Sirius."

"She doesn't even care when you're sick."

"Yes she does."

"She just thinks nothing of it!"

"Sirius, she comes from a Muggle household. Muggles get sick all the time and it takes time to get over."

"I'm glad I'm not a Muggle. Sounds horrifying... Remus, you aren't a Muggle," he finished quietly.

"...yeah," yawning and closing his eyes.

"I'm not asking. Are you proud?" he asked, but Remus was asleep, either that or doing a spectacular job of feigning it. The git.


	4. Chapter 4

Summary: Suspicions around Remus' monthly disappearances branch out to the public and Sirius must face one of many moral dilemmas surrounding his family.

Author note: I want to cover the disconnect Sirius has with his family as thoroughly as possible and to do this I have to start from the beginning. In my mind it is impossible for Sirius to break through the years of prejudice his family indoctrinated him to. It is my fair warning that you will get a slightly bigoted Sirius throughout this and following chapters. Like everything else, Sirius separating from his family and their beliefs is a process.

All that serious bullshit being said, thank you for the reviews! They are much appreciated and make me feel like a forest nymph discovering a particularly juicy fig.

* * *

Chapter 4: "Who We Are"

It was the first time that Sirius had ever seen a physical fight in his entire life. Usually when two wizards brawled the last things used were fists and brute force, but he figured James knew what he was doing. A group of Slytherins and Gryffindors gathered around the tumble of limbs and robes, watching transfixed as the greasy haired boy rambled off a list of curse _words_ aimed at James. Snape's level of vocabulary was really quite impressive, but he would never admit it to anyone. Best not throw Snape any sort of bone. He'd probably grind it up to make some sort of poison, the evil git that he is.

He wasn't quite sure how the fight had started and really wasn't sure what was said that had James pulling at Snapes' hair like, like _that― _large clumps of greasy black hair fisted in James' hands. He knew they hated Snape, but up until now it was just because of how ugly he was and, of course, his tendency to steal the innocent Evans away. He'd have to ask James what personal note Snape had touched later.

Speaking of Evans, she was huddled in the corner screaming shrilly, hand covering her mouth. He winced, making a face at the sound of her intolerable squalling. He wished she understood that in most cases James knew best and that this had to be done. In the same train of thought, he was pleased to find that the oily haired boy's nose was bent at an odd angle and his right cheek was already beginning to bruise. Just then, stealing James' moment of bravado, Snape grabbed his leg, cocking it to the side and twisting up. James yowled out in pain, trying desperately to escape. He knew when a friend was in need, and began to surge forward only to be stopped by a hand on his shoulder.

"Sirius," said a familiar feminine voice that made him halt in his struggle to get away from the offending hand.

He slowly looked up, meeting the gaze of the curious grey eyes that matched his own, if not a little blue. Long blonde hair cascaded down her shoulders, stopping at a pool mid back. A detailed dragonfly brooch was placed on the left side of her head, pulling her hair away from her face.

"Narcissa," he breathed.

She smiled briefly, reaching up to touch his hair before dropping her hand, thinking better of it. Narcissa had always been very nurturing towards her younger cousins, but now she seemed at a loss. Sighing and resigned to the fact that his family hated him, he focused his eyes back on the fight only to see that McGonagall had broken it up, dragging both James and Snape off to the infirmary. Making a sound of surprise and concern, he searched the crowd for his other two friends.

"It's no concern of your own, Sirius," Narcissa's hand briefly touching his own.

He wholeheartedly disagreed.

"Cissi, do you think it's wise that you're talking to me?" he asked, surprised by how bitter his voice sounded.

"Don't be silly, Sirius," she smiled sadly, now petting his hair.

Letting out a breath he didn't know he was holding, he leaned into the touch. He did not bother to hide how good it felt to receive a comforting hand from a family member.

"How is Regulus?" he asked.

"He's fine very popular amongst his year, you know. He misses you terribly, Sirius," she whispered, still stroking his hair.

"Well I'm right bloody right here, Narcissa," he scowled, looking down at his shoes.

"Sirius, don't you use that language. It's not befitting of who you are," she reprehended.

"Right. Who I am..." he said in a low, unconvinced drawl.

"That's right, Sirius. Don't you think for a moment that our family's behavior towards you isn't expected. There's always been Blacks at Hogwarts, and you managed to be the only one to not be sorted into Slytherin house. It's devastating."

He moved away, creating a considerable distance between him and his cousin, "So, you hate me too, is that it, Narcissa?"

"Of course I don't hate you," she said vaguely.

"But you're embarrassed by me," he said with dispassion.

She regarded him with cool eyes, raking them over every expanse of his face. It was the first time in his life that he had ever felt so far from someone, especially a family member, despite only being several feet apart. He bravely stared right back at her, ignoring the sickening feeing in his gut. This was perhaps the last civil conversation he would ever have with her and he wanted to remember her this way, still caring for him. He wouldn't admit it now, but growing up he always associated his cousin with a princess― a rare sight and too beautiful to even comprehend. It was something Bellatrix took glee out of taunting him with whenever given the chance. Yes, Narcissa had always been beautiful with her pale complexion and even paler hair, but she had never looked like a Black. Her face, in many ways, was softer than that of her sisters. Not quite as sharp and angular as Bella's, and not near as passionate and alive as Andromeda's. Instead, Narcissa was either passive or calculating, her facial features not differing much. It was something he had grown to find comfort in over the years, if only for the consistency. She had the high cheek bones and elegant attire, but the undeniable fairness of Narcissa was something that he'd never seen in another Black. Even the portraits hanging from his childhood home didn't house a blonde; nevertheless, he knew that Narcissa had to be some sort of genetic throwback. There was no sense in denying that she was a Black. She knew how to hold her own and manipulate people to her will like all Blacks did.

"I'm not embarrassed by you," she spoke, startling him out of his daze; "I'm just not quite sure what to do with you."

"Oh for Merlin's sake, Narcissa," he fumed, "I'm still the same person."

She smiled, running her hand to his face and cupping his cheek, "That's what I'm afraid of, dear, but it's not so bad I suppose. Just devastating. Go run along and find James." She turned, walking in the opposite direction.

* * *

"I had that slimy, git. Did you see it, Sirius?" said James, almost inaudible around the mouthful of bacon come dinner time.

"Broke his nose, you did! Good going, Jamie," he said, grinning.

James nodded enthusiastically, "He had it coming."

James had reemerged from the infirmary an hour later with not a scratch on him. He was clean of any bruising and did not even limp, much to Evans' disappointment. It was soon becoming clear that Evans now wanted nothing to do with James, going as far as sitting with the first years, her friend, Alice accompanying her. A loud sigh could be heard to his left and he shifted his eyes towards the source of it. Remus was sunken down low in his chair, idly picking at his chicken and dumplings, every now and then bringing his fork up to his face, examining the chunks of meat and potato. The sullen look made him want to take Remus on his broom there was nothing that soaring through the sky could not fix. He just knew that next year he and James would make the Quidditch team.

Interrupting Remus from his dark, melodramatic mood he nudged him with his shoulder, "What's up, Remus?"

Remus paused in examining his food, staring up into his eyes. He couldn't help but to think how nice Remus eyes were. They couldn't be classified as brown and he thought perhaps they were called amber. He frowned, looking away from the brown-eyed gaze. Whenever he and Remus made eye contact for any long period of time it made him unusually uncomfortable and he wasn't sure why. When Remus spoke, he leaned over Sirius to look directly at James, "Why did he have it coming to him, exactly?"

James looked at Remus, hesitating before saying, "He was spreading slander, Remus. I've to protect my own. I am a fierce lion, killing all in my path," James replied, puffing up his chest, still eying Remus uncertainly.

"Protect one of your own... which one of your own?" Remus replied slowly, much too calm for a thirteen year-old.

"Well... as I said, he said some things, Remus" James replied looking away.

"James. Tell me," Remus said voice so stern and hard that even he himself would find it difficult to object.

Scratching his head James responded, "Remus, I really don't believe this is something you'd like me to say in front of everyone."

"It's probably not anything I haven't heard, James," Remus murmured and looking at him made Sirius' heart swell with discomfort. What on earth had people been saying about Remus?

"I... well you see, he said something about your Mum and how maybe she um... laid hands on you and that lot."

All Gryffindors within earshot paused, their attention now solely on Remus. To Remus' credit, he did not shrink within himself or pretend to not have heard, like Sirius had seen him do so many times in the past. Instead he sat up tall, squaring his shoulders and met James' stare directly, as if it were James who had offended him. It would have been very convincing too, had it not been for the blue black bruise that marred Remus' left cheek. He laid his hand on Remus' knee trying to offer what comfort to the other boy that he could. Remus turned to look at him, searching his eyes. He stared, memorizing every line in Remus' face and every tense bone that was in the other boy's body. It was obvious that James' words had struck a cord deep within Remus. It was something of a hobby that he had developed since knowing Remus. Each of the boy's emotions was so tenuous (even when they weren't like now) that he thought they deserved special notice.

"She doesn't," Remus stated firmly, looking back at James. It was said with such an air of finality that it left no room for argument.

"I know, Remus! That's what I've been telling you. Snape is full of hate and greasy things. Can't see why Evans likes him so much," James said, genuinely confused.

"They've been friends since before Hogwarts, James."

"No, Remus. He stole her away. He does things like that." James was looking at Remus as if he pitied him for not knowing something that was clear as day.

"James... she was his friend before she was a Gryffindor," Remus responded patiently.

"What do you know of it, Remus?"

"Lily and I talk, James."

"Who is Lily and what does she have to do with it?"

"Evans has a first name you know, James."

"Yes, it's Eliza or something as equally ridiculous."

"Lily, James."

"OHHH... yeah, okay," James answered, looking sheepish, "Say, what do you need to talk to Evans for? What could you even possibly have to say to a girl?"

"Well they are people, you know."

"She seems like a dull little snob, Remus. You don't need her; all you need are your mates," James assured his eyes seeking out Sirius'.

"I think she's pretty," Peter said, somehow lost over the other two voices.

"She isn't a snob, James. She's just horribly insecure because of people like you."

Sirius frowned, averting his gaze to stare at Remus in alarm, "Remus, James is better people than the whole lot of us."

"Oh yes, acting like a savage and using his hands like a common Neanderthal obviously makes him a better person."

What in Merlin's name was a Neanderthal? How could he possibly come back with anything when Remus was determined to involve magical creatures that he had never heard of before? He was at a loss and had no idea how to defend James' honor. Perhaps if he rambled off a bunch of Latin incantations that would make him appear smarter than Remus rendering the other boy speechless. Years of being forced to learn it had to be good for something.

"Listen Remus, that Snape boy is no good. He runs in the wrong crowd and has a nasty temper. Have you forgotten why his nose had to be broken? "

"Foul stench of pollution, that one has. Poisons all the fish in the pond," he said, scowling at the empty place where Snape usually sat at the Slytherin table. He sincerely hoped that Snape would be spending the rest of the night in the hospital wing. After hearing why James had beaten the snot out of Snape, he found a whole new passion in hating the Slytherin.

"Look, just leave him alone, alright? I don't like it," Remus said voice low.

James scoffed, "Oh go lay some eggs, Remus"

Okay, _no_. He jammed the heel of his boot into James' shin causing the other boy to cry out in pain.

"Sirius!" James yelled, reaching down to run a hand over his abused leg.

"Complete accident, Jamie" he replied, not bringing himself to meet his friend's eyes.

* * *

His next interaction with Narcissa would not occur until almost the end of the year. It was the beginning of December and fresh snow had already fallen on Hogwarts grounds. Many of his classmates were excited by the prospect of snow ball fights, but his thoughts were more concentrated on just how to make Snape fall and fall hard. Ever since the greasy haired moron had decided to prey on Remus he and James made sure that his life at Hogwarts was miserable. There was no retribution for Snape and he suspected that it would go on for a very long time. It was just that fun. He was started out of his obsessive Snape hating by James stealing a biscuit off of his place. He reached to grab it back, it being his favorite flavor, when a small paper bird landed on top of his head. He slowly moved to grab it when James beat him. No sooner had James' fingers touched the bird did he take them back, wincing in pain.

"Oi, mate. I think someone is trying to burn you alive with this here," he squinted, examining the bird, "albatross?" he questioned. Like Sirius (or James) had any idea what an albatross looked like.

Snatching the bird from his head he immediately recognized the source and did admit it was not Narcissa's best work. The wings were crumbled and much too large. It looked nothing like the complicated doves and cranes she spent most of her childhood perfecting; however, despite the shoddy work there was little doubt in his mind that it belonged to his cousin. He wondered how it managed to fly from here to the Slytherin table at all with its haphazard construction. Delicately, he began to unfold the bird, meeting Narcissa's eyes across the hall. She looked gaunt and paler than he had ever remembered her being. Next to her Regulus looked concerned, his hand resting on her forearm. Biting on his bottom lip, he hastily tore at the bird, it giving a strangled caw before unfolding to reveal words written on parchment.

Dear Sirius,

Something awful has happened within our family. Meet me tonight at 8 at Slytherin. The password is, 'hatchling'. I trust that you know where it is.

Sincerely,

Narcissa

It was short and gave him none of the answers that he desperately wanted. Still looking at the parchment, he wasn't surprised to find it wither in his hands, paper flakes floating away in the air to be swept away by an abrupt breeze. It was what Narcissa had always done since she was young when she wanted to pass notes between family members when speaking allowed was not permitted. He glanced back at her, only to find that she had returned to her meal, occasionally turning her head to the side to talk to one of her female housemates. His gaze shifted to Regulus, a pair of matching grey eyes seeking each other out from across the crowd. It gave him slight comfort to find the same confusion and unanswered questions swimming in Regulus' eyes.

"Why's Regulus sitting with the seventh years?" questioned James.

"Blacks stick together, James," he replied, almost mechanically.

James stared at him, eyebrow raised, "Yeah alright. I guess," he said, clearly not convinced.

"That was awesome!" whispered Peter, staring at Narcissa with a sense of awe.

"Yeah, Pete," he murmured, "awesome."

"I swear to Merlin, Sirius. All you Blacks toss forth anything you may think is cool into the world to impress someone."

Smiling slightly he replied, "Nah, James. We're such snobs that it almost comes natural to us. Years of breeding."

"Inbreeding," James corrected.

"Yeah," he replied, not at all paying attention, instead staring at the ash left from the letter in front of him. He wondered what on earth could possibly have happened to warrant a note from Narcissa. Usually when something happened it came directly from his mother, her being the unofficial head of the Black family. Sighing, he stared up, surprised to find several sets of eyes on him. He wondered for a moment if he had something on his face before Peter spoke up,

"You're inbred, Sirius?"

Well, yeah, but. Oh. James' comment.

"Yep, Peter. You cut me and I bleed just like anyone else except I might just not stop," he said in an effort to laugh it off.

Peter smiled, obviously thinking that he was kidding, "That was a good one, Sirius."

"Not really, Pete," he said glaring at James from the corner of his eyes, but chose to let it slide.

* * *

He stepped off the last set of stairs leading to Hogwarts dungeons almost tripping in the process. It took him slightly aback by how dark it was, small torches on either side of the hall, being the only source of light. He had a fair idea of the whereabouts of the Slytherin dormitories'. After all, they were located in the dungeons, how hard could it be? They were dungeons. Wasn't like too many crooks and crevices were fit to house a whole hoard of Slytherins. He knew that whatever was guarding the dorms had to be undeniably serpentine. He found it odd that after years of Blacks being nothing but Slytherin, the location of the dorms had never reached his ears. Maybe it had and he just couldn't be arsed to care. Maybe that's why Narcissa thought he would know how to find this hole in the wall, he thought, speaking the password to a crack in the wall in a desperate attempt. When nothing happened he sighed and continued to walk the long passage way, looking for anything that was out of place. He was about to give up all hope when he noticed a section of the stone wall that was discolored and turned to stare at it. It was of a basilisk painted on the brick, colored, but so faded that it was hard to make out and would be near impossible, had there not been two torch lights on either side framing the snake. He sincerely doubted that this was the opening to Slytherin dormitories because of its lack of appeal or anything worthwhile, but had seen nothing else even remotely likely.

"Hatchling," he said in a tired voice.

To his surprise the portrait of the snake became vibrant with color, hissed viciously, and turned to blink, its cold slitted eyes staring daggers at him before the stone wall abruptly flung up, allowing him entrance. It was perhaps the coolest thing he had ever seen, and really, who needed a fat lady?

"Sirius, what on earth took you so long? It's half passed," scolded Narcissa.

She was so close to the opening that he was sure she was seconds from going out and finding him herself. He felt rather stupid standing there in bewilderment, still amazed by the passage.

"James needed help... with Peter," he said, rather lamely.

"Exactly what sort of help did James need with that fat boy?"

He blinked. Well that was rather callous of Narcissa.

"Yes, that's it exactly. He's well, fat. Can't really carry him on your own, can you?" Merlin, but he sounded stupid.

"Why would you have to carry him?"

"Ate too much. Couldn't move... was a sorry sight to see, Narcissa."

She pursed her lips, staring down at him with speculation in her eyes before saying, "Indeed."

He hated that word, hated this side of her.

"Hi, Siri," said a small voice from behind Narcissa, Regulus' face staring out.

"Oh so you're speaking to me, good show," he said, trying not to give Regulus the satisfaction of knowing how hurt he was and failing miserably.

"I was never not speaking to you, Sirius!" Regulus insisted while Narcissa winced at his lack of grammatical will.

"Regulus, shut up. I'm not stupid."

"Sirius, enough. You have no idea what strain you have put on this family," said Narcissa, this time not in a scolding tone but in a voice so tired that it made him stop and stare.

She looked even more haggard than she did during breakfast, her normally impeccable hair falling out of her elaborately decorated brooch in a messy mass around her face. She had large circles under her eyes and her hands were clenched at her side. He could have stopped to point it out, Merlin knew he had enough reason to, but she was Narcissa, and that mattered.

"Cissi, what did you need me for?" he asked.

He couldn't help but to lean against the pillar by the entrance when Narcissa turned to look at him, looking so haunted and so afraid. It just wasn't something that Narcissa's face did. Ever. There were several long moments where nothing happened before Narcissa sighed, looking back and forth between he and Regulus before finally turning her attention back to him.

"It's... you see, Andromeda has made her decision to leave the family," she said, voice steady.

"To leave the family?" he gaped.

"Yes, she's gone, Sirius."

"Gone to where?" he demanded.

"Off to marry some Mudblood named Theodore Tonks," She said, her voice dripping with venom.

"Theodore Tonks?" the name even sounded tainted, several steps below mud, even.

"Yes."

"And the tapestry?"

"Blasted off, Sirius," Narcissa pinched the bridge of her nose.

Regulus began to wail, long drawn out sobs coursing through his body, "But it's 'Dromeda! How could Mother do that... how could," he turned to look at Sirius hands flinging madly at him, "Sirius!" Regulus flung himself at his brother.

He held his brother fiercely to him, no longer caring about the months of constant shunning Regulus had inflicted upon him. He was a brother and he knew his place. Regulus shook in his arms, measured breaths escaping from his lips as silent tears coursed down his cheeks. Allowing Regulus time to calm down he stared up at his cousin,

"What are we going to do?" he asked.

"Oh, Sirius, what can we do? She's not a part of us, anymore. She chose this this Mudblood," she spat.

"But why?" Regulus sniffed from his shoulder, a broken sorry thing.

"Because she loves him, purposively," Narcissa rolled her eyes, obviously not thinking this a good enough a reason.

Neither did he, not really anyways. Didn't Andromeda love them too? How wonderful could this Theodore Tonks be, being a Mudblood and all? How could he possibly replace the love of a dozen family members? Another heavy sob escaped Regulus' body and he clutched him even tighter wishing he could appreciate the Slytherin dorms in all their splendor― the many intricate serpentine carvings that ran up and down the walls, how the light in the room appeared to be green because of the open windows letting in the lake outside, how everything just _was_ green with lush hues and amazing shades of black, and amongst it all, the cold sinking feeling that was quickly making home in his chest, tearing everything he knew into pieces like it had no right to be there in the first place.

* * *

James was out of the compartment on a mission to make life hell one last time before they all left for summer vacation. Peter had accompanied him, having newly discovered the delights of Snape torture, or because he was a follower and tagged along with James wherever he went. He liked to think the best of Peter, even when he didn't. Clearly a found love for hating Snape was better than being a spineless moron. He would have been right along with them but would rather spend the last few hours he had with Remus in the cramped compartment. Speaking of which, Remus wasn't making for very good company. The other boy was lodged up against a window; book in his lap scanning the pages with his eyes rapidly following the text. Making a frustrated sound he reached over and grabbed the book from the boy's lap. Instantly Remus tensed up.

"I don't see how anything can be more important than spending these precious hours with your best mate, Remus!" he declared, glaring over at Remus.

His friend remained completely immobile, eyes wide, staring directly at the text on the pages, then up at Sirius. He looked as if a boggart had just transformed into his worst nightmare. Frowning, he too looked down at the text reading what was there. Briefly scanning his eyes over it, he saw that it was an article about Werewolves and how to spot them in their human form. He was confused as to why Remus was reading about this specific breed of dark creature. Maybe because the full moon had just been a few nights before and he had grown curious about werewolves and eating little children and that sort of thing. Actually, come to think of it, Remus was absent around that time. Staring back at the text he blinked. Remus was _always_ absent around that time. His eyes scanned back over the words reading

_"The werewolf in its transformed stage is a triple X threat Spotting an untransformed werewolf is often times very difficult, but there are indications, a few of which being: elongated canines, light grey or amber eyes, increased anxiety before and after the full moon, increased fatigue after, and of course, scars that magic cannot fix."_

He stared transfixed at the text and then back to Remus, who met his gaze evenly, his whole body beginning to shake. He threw the book to the side, straddling a startled Remus and began pulling down the neck of his robes to stare at what lay beneath. Long crooked scars marred the creamy white skin running deep within the flesh. Pulling down the material of the robes further, he saw more of the same cross hatching over one another. He was deftly aware that he was tracing over the scars, the torn and reopened skin feeling soft against the pads of his fingertips. He pulled back to look Remus in the face, hastily pulling his robes down and making sure that no one had entered the compartment. Remus' face was ashen and he was leaning heavily against the window, fingers cocked awkwardly up at the ceiling. Anger blossomed in his chest as he climbed off of Remus moving to sit down beside him, almost on top of him.

"Remus Lupin," he growled.

Several minutes passed and the other boy did not respond. He had taken to rocking back and forth, the offending book forgotten on the floor. Growling again he elbowed Remus' side causing the other boy to be slammed into the side of the window. Remus gave a whimper, but did not meet his eyes.

"Yes?" Remus squeaked.

"You are a liar,"

"I...Sirius..." Remus tried, but stopped mid thought. There just wasn't any explaining.

"Hey look, you guys! I bought all the chocolate frogs. I just have to find Galinda The Tepid. I half think she doesn't exist, you know. Oh and I turned Snape's hair a nice snot green color okay, yeah who died?" He looked back and forth between him and Remus, neither one saying anything. Peter too was looking back and forth between them, a wary expression on his face.

"I'm going to be sick," announced Remus bolting for the door.

Catching onto Remus' shoulder he snapped, "I'm coming with you."

Not pausing to hear Remus' lame excuses he grabbed the other boy's hand leading him in the direction of the bathrooms, almost knocking over the snack trolley woman in the process. Luckily for them there were no other students in line to use the bathroom. He didn't think he'd like having to physically remove anyone. Opening the door he pushed Remus inside, slamming it shut behind them. Remus stared up at him from the floor with the same haunted amber eyes. He gazed back down at his friend staring knives at the fallen mass of limbs. Remus gave a choked sob and quickly scrambled for the toilet, grasping the rims and heaving what was probably everything he'd eaten that day into the bowl. After several moments when the vomiting did not pass, he moved to kneel down besides Remus, taking his hair into his hands as the other boy continued to spew the lining of his stomach.

"Do you," he paused, licking his lips, "have any idea what a year this has been for me, hm, Remus?" he murmured into Remus' hair, his back pressed close to Remus' huddled body feeling the other boy flinch at his words.


	5. Chapter 5

Author Note: To all of those following this story: I'm sorry it took a ridiculously long amount of time between the first four chapters and this one. I feel like a forest nymph hanging from a branch that is about to break! You like that analogy?

Anyways, I feel like this chapter is short and not very well written, but I had to get something out so that I would continue on with it. Enjoy and let me know how I'm doing!

* * *

**_R_**

**_I'm going to help you._**

**_S_**

Remus stared down at the words, the taste of horror beginning to develop in his mouth. How on earth did Sirius suppose he was going to help him with an incurable affliction? This wasn't what he wanted - this piece of parchment - wasn't it. He wanted this to go away, hope desperately that it would.

He wished he was whimsical and delusional enough to convince his mind that the whole encounter on the train ride home did not happen, but it was all he could think of. The fire in Sirius' eyes when he stared up at him after fitting the pieces carefully into place, the accusations that followed, and worst of all, the horrible feeling of despair. He was a werewolf.

He could take the monthly transformations that twisted and manipulated his body into that of a creature leaving him with nothing but a broken shell of human coherency. He could take the pitying smiles his parents threw his way; he could even tolerate the looks his peers gave him when they knew something was off about him. Somehow all of these things didn't shine near as bright in comparison to Sirius knowing. It was the fact that Sirius would never look at him in the same way again because he wasn't Remus anymore. At least not the way Sirius used to say his name with careful pronunciation, enunciating each letter out as if savoring the feel of it on his tongue.

'Because you're Remus.'

He closed his eyes, promising himself that he would no longer be so foolish as to believe that the things others could have inherently could be his as well.

He reached for his quill hastily writing his reply to Sirius, practically pushing the owl out the window. He didn't want to deal with this, did not want to deal with any of it and hoped to God Sirius had enough sense to not tell anyone else about his lycanthropy. He had no idea where his standings as a Hogwarts student were and didn't think anyone else knowing was particularly beneficial to his cause. Holding his head in his hands, he tried in vain to focus on his summer's readings. It clearly was no use when all the words looked like blurred bits of black with a cloud for a lining.

He was drawn from his dismal attempt at progress by an owl tapping on the window. Had it really been long enough for Sirius to given a reply? Sighing he walked over to the window, patting the bird once to make amends for before and grabbed the letter from its foot, setting it on the night table. He did not bother to read it. Usually he wasn't one to believe in ignorance being bliss and all of that, but he hadn't done anything right so far. Turning up the covers of his bed, he crawled underneath hoping to at least get a few peaceful hours away from the thoughts that threatened to drive him crazy.

* * *

He was awoken abruptly by the rustling of his window panels, causing him to spring up throwing his covers off in a feeble attempt to better prepare himself for any violence the intruder had in mind. Unfortunately for him it wasn't someone trying to kill him in the night.

Wide grey eyes stared back at him, fingers gripping the broom in his Sirius' hand - Sirius was the only left hand person he knew. He was crouched on the floor, one of his hands still on the windowsill to brace himself.

"Oh for- are you serious?"

Sirius bit his lip, his eyes still locked with his own, "Yes" he replied, "I'm Sirius," he finished, his lips twitching with none of the jovial tones that the overused pun usually was accompanied with.

"Fine! Fine. You know what, it's all fine. This it's fine," he could feel his mind begin to blur as he lifted up his covers offering Sirius space in his bed.

Just when Sirius was making himself comfortable by nestling up to him he turned around, grabbing the other boy's shoulders searching his eyes frantically.

"You have to explain this to my parents" he trailed off, suddenly realizing how silly he sounded. He had never had friends before though.

Sirius smiled shyly up at him and ruffled his hair, "I'll tell them I'm a sky leopard that followed you home."

"You don't look like a stray, Sirius. Nothing about you screams, 'homeless'." And it was true. Sirius looked very very well taken care of.

"Mm shut up and go to sleep."

* * *

"Do your parents even know where you're at?" He asked Sirius a week later.

They had just finished a breakfast of scrambled eggs and pancakes that he had made them. His parents had just left to go into the nearest wizarding town.

It embarrassed him how nervous he was for them to meet Sirius, but the whole ordeal was relatively pain free. All it had taken was Sirius to flash his Mother a bright smile and say that he thought Remus could use some company, and with that Sylvia Lupin was immediately taken with the charming black haired boy. His father, a man of few words and just stood back looking between him and Sirius for several moments before shrugging and grabbing the axe, sliding out the door, and leaving them alone in the kitchen. Rolling his eyes at the memory, he scraped off the remainder of their meal into the garbage and stared back at Sirius, waiting for the other boy's reply.

"Well," Sirius started, "I don't know if it matters. They know where I told them I was."

"Where was that?"

"At Jamie's."

"And they don't check up on you?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Oh she would know if I were dead, Remus."

" Right."

"Alrighty then my beastly foe! Show me to the dungeons of exile!" Sirius said feeling the need to change the subject.

"Sirius, really don't you think you should be a little bit more sensitive to the subject matter? Anyone could have heard that."

"I actually refuse to be 'sensitive to the subject matter'. You'll start convincing me that I think you're a disgusting creature that needs not an education or basic human necessities. Won't have it, my were-friend."

"Sirius, shh! I can't have my parents knowing that you know yes I realize they're not here, but do be cautious!"

"Could tell them."

"Okay what part of that made you think I was hoping you would?"

"Eh after you said my name I sort of lost steam for your train of thought."

"It's a basement" he grumbled.

"What was that, Remy?"

"A basement. Not a dungeon."

"Well if it serves the purpose, right?"

"You aren't seeing it."

"Yes I probably am."

"Sirius, you already know enough."

"Right, so why is showing me the basement where you draw the line?"

"I didn't offer any of this information to you, and as for the line it's been set afire!"

"Didn't hide it very well," Sirius mumbled.

"I just got too comfortable around you."

"Comfortable? You're the stiffest person I know! I probably would have never found out if you didn't insist on reading books around me when I should have your full attention," Sirius replied with a casual flick of his wrist, setting off in the opposite direction.

" Where are you going?" he asked with a bit of alarm.

"To the basement. I know I may not look like much but I can guarantee I know where you're basement is it being a basement and all."

"Sirius, NO!"

Sirius gave an abrupt lurch, his chest jutting forward, but his feet remaining rooted to the spot. He flailed for a moment before giving in and falling on the floor. "What the-"

"It's not yours to exploit, Sirius. You can't see it."

"Exploit? Who am I going to show, you? I think you're very aware of what you're going through, Remus."

"You aren't. I'd like to keep it that way. If you don't see any evidence it just makes things much better for us both."

Sirius raised his eyebrow, "Need I remind you that I've seen the scars?"

"That's different."

"How's it different?"

"Because... because you just don't understand, Sirius!"

"So then make me understand!"

"You don't even want to, Sirius. Really, you don't," he pleaded.

Sirius glared at him fiercely, "You have no idea what I want."

For some reason that Remus couldn't quite understand Sirius' statement made his heart give a sudden lurch and he had to brace his hand on the counter to steady himself.

"Look, I'm going to help you. I'll see it eventually."

"You keep saying that, what on earth do you mean?"

"Secret," Sirius smiled at him.

He leaned heavily on the kitchen counter. Sometimes Sirius was exhausting.

"You just can't see it, alright? It doesn't matter."

"You're there every month and it keeps you away from your mates. It matters."

"I only use it in the summers and on the holidays."

" What?"

"At Hogwarts. I transform at Hogwarts."

"Where?" he demanded, getting up.

"Sirius you have to promise never to go near there."

"I promise." He looked honest enough.

"You know the whomping willow? Well it wasn't always there, as it is but I'm sure you know that. Well there's a secret passage and it leads to this shack"

"The shrieking shack?"

"Um, yes. That one."

"It's haunted Remus! Are ghosts considered dark creatures is that why you're there."

"No I'm the ghost," he replied, finding it easy to ignore Sirius' ignorance when his own heart was beating so fast.

"What?"

"The noises they aren't from ghosts."

"Oh you're a bit of a legend you know," he replied, looking at Remus in awe.

"Better that than the truth I guess."

"So every full moon you're there?"

"Unfortunately."

"Well that's good then."

"How's it good?"

"Makes things easier for me."

"What?"

"Secret."

He glared at Sirius.

"So can we go see the basement now?"

"Afraid not," he said, turning around and placing the last of the dishes back on the shelf.

"Remmyyyy. Wouldn't it be nice to have someone to share these things with? You can tell me anything, you know. It won't be too dark for me. I've seen some pretty nasty things."

"Yeah, like what?" he asked, surprised by how bitter he sounded.

"Well my family deals in dark magic, you know. Isn't like I haven't done any of it myself. I mean! Don't look at me like that. I've never hurt anyone. I've just seen things. My family has these friends who do horrible things to Muggle borns."

"How horrible?" he asked out of sick curiosity.

"Well they probably wish they were dead afterwards if they weren't already," Sirius stammered, looking at his feet.

"You've seen that?"

"I've heard more than I've seen, but Mother makes little comments that allude to it. Thinks I'm too stupid to know what she's talking about."

"Merlin! Ahy are you living there?"

"They're my family, Remus. Besides, it's not all of them who do it. Father stays away from it and my Uncle Alphard doesn't give a damn if someone is muggle born or not. He's not very popular in the family."

"So who does do it?"

"My mother, I think. Well she likes to watch I gather. Bellatrix is always going on about pureblood supremacy and the filthy mudbloods so I imagine she does too and her parents. Not Narcissa. She wouldn't dirty her hands with it."

"So just about everyone then."

"Um, yeah."

"What do you think of Muggleborns?"

"Look I don't like them."

"My Mother is a Muggleborn, Sirius."

"Okay, it's not that I don't like them. I just think they're a threat to wizards. They contaminate the blood. No, look Remus, they do. You can read it anywhere. It increases the chances of having squibs in a wizarding line if too many Muggleborns are introduced. They carry the Muggle gene, Remus."

"They don't deserve to be tortured and killed!"

"No, I know. I agree I just don't think they should have any part in the wizarding world."

"Then what world should they be a part of? You can't have rampant magic in the Muggle world. It would ruin the statute of secrecy and we'd be hunted down and hanged. Again."

Sirius threw up his hands and grabbed the chair nearest him, flinging it around and straddling it backwards. Remus blinked and looked down at Sirius, who now was staring at the opposite side of the room with a vacant, unfocused gaze.

"I'm only thirteen, Remus I've basically worked out by now that my family is fundamentally no good, but I don't really want to be disowned."

"Isn't any good" he trailed off.

Sirius blinked, "What?"

He ignored him, "You have people that would take care of you, Sirius. James' family for one. I've seen they way they look at you and speak with you at the end of the year. They adore you."

"It's one thing to like your kid's friend. It's another to raise him. As messed up as it is, they're my family. I'm a Black, Remus."

"It's just a name"

"It's a legacy."

"Because someone told you it was."

"No, it's a fact," Sirius insisted his eyes so large and focused on him.

"Come on, we're going to the basement," he found himself saying.

"Fantastic! You're so easy, Remus," Sirius stated just as Remus caught the other boy smiling gleefully out of the corner of his eye.

"There isn't anything easy about this, Sirius."

* * *

"Look. It doesn't matter."

"How couldn't it Sirius? You were raised to hate things like me. You do hate me, Sirius."

"I don't hate you, Remus! I hate what that bastard made you be."

"It's who I am, Sirius. Every month it is who I am, and even when it's not. Do you think I don't want to destroy things? Do you think I wouldn't if given the chance, Sirius? Do you know how much I want to bite into your juggler when it's close to full moon? Do you know how hard it is to keep all these... thoughts that I have controlled? You know all those things they say in the textbooks about werewolves? How even in human form the pull towards the wolf is so _so_ damn strong? Stop disassociating them with me. I am this," he pointed down at the basement, "I am the wolf and when I'm not I have no idea who else to be."

"You're Remus" Sirius murmured, voice broken and lost.

And he couldn't take it anymore and began to sob because for all that Sirius was trying he still wasn't _Remus_ anymore. It was silly for him to feel such sorrow for the loss of being that person for Sirius when he had just spent the better part of ten minutes convincing Sirius that he wasn't anyone to sit down and have a cup of tea with.

Later that night he was staring up at his ceiling trying to ignore the voice at the back of his head that was telling him that it was not normal to have Sirius Black cuddled up next to his side. He wondered how the hell these thoughts never passed the other boy's thoughts. He blinked. What the hell did Sirius think of that didn't have something to do with dung bombs and Snape torture? He just didn't know.

"Remus?" Sirius spoke, jogging him from his thoughts.

"Hm?"

"When are you going to tell James?"

Oh right. Sirius thought of him. Then immediately after thinking about him the dumb ideas leaked in.

"Never."

"Remus, it's Jamie! He's our best friend."

"I like James," he agreed.

"So you'll tell him?" Sirius asked hopeful.

"No. I thought you said you understood," but of course Remus knew there wasn't any way he could understand.

"I do! James would too"

"Right, probably better than you, you irrational thing that you are."

"I think he needs telling."

"I won't tell him."

"Why!" Sirius cried.

"Because, Sirius, James is a rational thinking human, unlike you. When I look him in the eye and tell him I'm a blood thirsty beast he's going to be able to contemplate what that means."


End file.
